


you'll find me in the lonely hearts

by faithandbuffy



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/F, also anti finch and lowkey anti machine but just for this story, i miss them so much ugh, root lives? not in this story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 11:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17058578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithandbuffy/pseuds/faithandbuffy
Summary: Shaw deals with Root's death badly and drunkenly.





	you'll find me in the lonely hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Whipped this up quickly earlier, so sorry for any errors. Also, I wrote this instead of my assassins au, which has been in the works for a YEAR now.

“Thank you! You just saved my life, thank you!”

“It’s kinda in the job description, lady.” Shaw turned away, already bored of the conversation.

“But who are you?” The number called after her. Shaw didn’t bother to respond.

Another number saved. Another life. She couldn’t care less. What did it matter when the person who should have been saved was still gone?

\----

Shaw turned the bullet over in her hands and wondered how something so tiny could create such a large hole in her life. 

One tiny bullet. How many times had Root been shot? How many times had she patched her up after a reckless mission and told her to be more careful next time? She never was, and look where it had gotten her. Dead, and making Shaw feel more alone than she’d ever felt before.

Shaw thought about those times she had stared at Root’s exposed back and traced all of the scars with her eyes. She remembered lingering on the small bump of the bullet wound she’d given. She’d felt a small pang of, what? Guilt maybe?

She didn’t feel guilt anymore. She remembered feeling guilt, and happiness and, hell, even maybe something close to love once upon a time. But not anymore. Root had opened up emotions that she thought she would never feel. And yeah, they may have just been projected; what she knew she should have been feeling, but it was enough.

Shaw put the bullet back in its box and went to pour herself a whiskey.

\-------

“Hey. Hey. Machine. I wanna talk to you.”

 _“Hey sweetie, what’s up?”_ Root’s voice cut through her ear, and Shaw had to take a second to separate the AI from the woman it used as a puppet.

“I want to talk about Root.”  

 _“Are you drunk, Shaw?”_ She-The Machine replied amusedly.

“No. Yeah. Maybe a little bit” She hit back the last of the whiskey and put it in the pile of empty bottles by her feet.

_“What is it that you wanted to say?”_

Shaw thought over the words, tried to phrase them in the right way. She was silent for a long time, before blurting out, “I was gonna ask her to move in with me.”

The Machine was silent, and Shaw knew that it was waiting for her to continue; listening to her rare expression of feelings in the hopes of gaining more information about her motivations.

“You probably knew that anyway, didn’t you? After the whole Samaritan thing was over,” she continued, “I was gonna tell her she could live with me. When we didn’t have to hide anymore. Not even a dating thing really, just an ‘I care about your wellbeing’ thing. I wasn’t gonna make a big deal. Just throw her the key or something.” She took a shaky breath.

“I just wanted her to be happy, you know? And all she got was dead.”  She poured herself another drink, looking at the ground.

_“You miss her a lot, don’t you?”_

“Of course I do,” Shaw laughed bitterly, “she was one of the only people I cared about. And for me, that’s saying a lot.” Memories of Root were dancing around her head and she drank more to block them out.

“She held my hand in New York once,” she remembered, smiling slightly at the memory. “I pushed her into the snow and told her not to do it again because I knew that would make her do it more. I kind of liked it.”

Shaw had almost forgotten The Machine was there and jumped slightly when it said, _“She wouldn’t want you to be moping after her you know.”_

She felt her anger rise. “How would you know what she wanted?”

 _“My purpose is to predict people.”_ It said, and Shaw laughed again.

“Predict people? You didn’t predict that she would get shot in the stomach, did you? You were to busy caring about Finch to give a shit about what happened to her!”

 _“He_ is _my creator.”_

“And he’s doubted each and every one of us at every turn! Samaritan went online because  _he_ stopped us from killing that commissioner! How many times did he kill  _you_? He never even thought of you as a life! He used you, just like he used us!”

_“Harry did what he thought was right, Sam.”_

“Yeah and so did you. Even after the whole thing was over, and the two people who meant most to me were gone, you had preserved yourself enough to ring that damn phone and give me false hope."

_“I’m not sure what you mean.”_

“You ring up and say “Hey sweetie” in HER DAMN VOICE,” Shaw realised that she was shouting and took a moment to collect herself.

 _“Oh.”_ The Machine said, _“You thought I was her”_

“There’s one thing I just can’t understand. Your purpose is to work out who’s in danger right? But then after that, your bit is done.”

_“What exactly are you asking Sameen?”_

“Why didn’t you work out  _she_ was in danger? It’s the only thing you have to do!” Shaw took a shaky breath, and continued in a darker, steadier voice, “I’ll fucking tell you why. Because you were more worried about Finch’s preservation than her’s. After all this time, after everything she did for you, and you cast her aside like she was _nothing_.”

 _“Root meant a lot to me too, Sameen. You all do.”_ It sounded hurt. Good.

“Oh yeah?” Shaw retorted, “If we all mean so much to you, why are half of us dead? John is dead, Carter is dead, Root is fucking dead!” She could feel her anger rising once more. “They’re all dead, and I have to stay here and deal with all these feelings that I don’t even understand, and I don’t know why you can’t- why you can’t just…”

Shaw trailed off, not knowing how to express what she was feeling and getting frustrated because of it.

 _“Why can’t I do what, Sweetie?”_ The Machine asked carefully.

“BRING HER BACK! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BRING HER BACK TO ME!” Shaw yelled, her anger finally bubbling over, throwing her glass to the ground.

_“Sweetie, you know I can’t bring bac-”_

“STOP USING HER VOICE! YOU’RE NOT HER! YOU’LL NEVER. BE. HER.” She wasn’t going to let The Machine live out its morbid fascinations through Root.

 _“As. You. Wish.”_ The droning compilation of anonymous voices returned, and Shaw let out a calming breath.

Better.

**Author's Note:**

> Buy me a coffee? I'm poor! Ko-fi.com/H2H7AQE6


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